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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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To the weak, what we do, buck em down, word life |
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Each and every ****** whenever I'm in the sight |
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Let my ****** jewel peep your style for your card |
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Then I kick a verse and take a look at the God |
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God hit them ******z with a verse real quick |
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C'mon God ******z is all on your ************ |
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You know what they say about ******z who ride ************s |
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Upstate ******z become chicks, word life |
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I ain't bull************ttin', ask my ****** Buff |
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On the streets he was tough locked up he was sweet stuff |
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************t is hot, word to Ma Duke |
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And get the loot from the man kick his ass with my Timberland |
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Shorty with the Shots that I buck with, ****** with |
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Gang hanger with the double edged banger |
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And I got ******z clingin' my drawers |
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******z fake I'ma bust a cap ****** that I'm breakin' jaws |
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I'ma bring it to your chest like wind |
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Fill your ******' lungs up with all the bull************t from within |
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But I'm a put it back so parlay |
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To the weak in Bucktown all we do everyday |
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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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******z tell me chill when I kick it |
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Although my ************t is wicked, it's all about the blunts and how I lick it |
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Or how I shot a ****** in the mug |
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With the slug leavin' white chalk all on a pitch black rug |
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You couldn't tell me other word to mother |
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When I was fifteen runnin' around I was the real street lover |
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On the corner out shootin' the dice |
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Layin' up, gettin' nice, talkin' bout a heist |
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G Q headin' up to one, two, five |
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Push up on a shorty lookin' live on the prize |
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I couldn't get the time of day when I was Little K |
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Now you call me Buck so your lips wanna puck |
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****** that ************, I know your X amount of thoughts |
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But they call me Buckshot Shorty cause I take no shorts |
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Word to the shell around my chest |
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Big up to all de massive rudebwoy pon dec |
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So if you see a weak ****** speak to that bastard |
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Or I'ma hit his ass with the mother******' plastic |
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Buck em down |
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(Word life, I ain't bull************ttin') |
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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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When I was in school I was a mack |
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Shorty was strapped with a ill lyrical contact |
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Knapsack, filled with the ************t that I G'd |
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And a nickel bag of ******, yes indeed |
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A mad little ****** runnin' up on 'em all |
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Fly as hell, hit the park play the wall |
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And all the older people sayin' Shorty's a bad ass |
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But youse a smart little ****** so you gonna last |
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They knew the time and they knew the rhyme woulda |
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Hit you in at least four years, so I came to split ya |
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In the nine three it's all about me |
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Ninety four, ninety five, that's my years ****** it I'm takin' over |
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In nineteen ninety eight, I couldn't wait |
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To get all my ******z and do shows from state to state |
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Now I'm the mother****** that's givin' instructions |
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******' with them ******z |
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Bea**inerz on productions |
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Welcome to Bucktown, USA |
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Where the weak ******z get their ************t ass played |
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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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Buck em down |
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Aiyyo, this is goin' out to all the real ******z |
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Who buck down the bull************t, you know what I'm sayin'? |
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On the real, rest in peace to my ****** Buttahin, Coney Island |
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************t is mad real out there, you know what I'm sayin'? |
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Buckshot Shorty Five, F T, my DJ Evil Dee |
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Mr. Walt, B, all my ******z in the mother****** |
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You know what I'm sayin'? Smokin' mad blunts and just chillin' |
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So buck down the bull************t in ninety three |
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Ninety four, ninety five, ************t is ours |
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Black Moon, we out |
